City Conversations #3

My hubby and I were standing in line at the blockbuster (to rent “Night at the Museum”). I had baby bug strapped to me in my Mei Tai carrier and Tim starting bending over and making funny faces and strange noises at the baby to make him laugh.

After a little while, the guy behind us says “Excuse me, I just had to share–my friend here didn’t see that you were carrying a baby and thought that your husband was a crayzperson.” Apparently the friend had been all “dude, this guy has Turette’s syndrom or something, he’s making uncontrollable noises or having a seizure or something.”

I got to explain that while my husband was, in fact, crazy, his craziness didn’t manifest in those particular symptoms.

Just think, that guy could’ve gone back to his blog and written a post about how he was behind a crazy guy in line at blockbuster’s. Although he still could–except it will be about how babies turn their parents into crazy people. Which is true.

As a side note, it turned out that the guys behind us were also renting Night At the Museum. Which they had already seen and they raved about how great it was. Now, I didn’t think it was so great as to merit a double viewing–it was cute and not too annoying to watch once (but oh, poor Dick Van Dyke! How have you fallen!)–but more than once? I guess there’s no accounting for taste.

It’s cold out here for a baby.

So, one of the things I don’t like about living in a walking city is that random strangers feel free to comment on anything about you that they think is not right or strange or whatever. I am willing to admit that I am overly sensitive about this.

When I was at the end of my pregnancy I dreaded going outside because every single time I went out someone asked me if I was having twins (no) and then be shocked that there was just one baby in there. (Okay, he was a big baby, but still I don’t need to hear that I look like I’m having twins, it was not helping my mental outlook).

Now that I have the baby, every time I go out and it’s cold outside I dread that someone is going to read me the riot act for not having enough clothes on him. Today it was 50 and I wore the baby into blockbuster and the nice cashier, upon hearing the baby cough said–to the baby–”oh, you’re getting sick, cause mom’s taking you out in the cold weather.”

For the record, he’s fine. He’s not sick. It was a one time cough. This is why moms are crazy–everyone on the street has an opinion about what you are doing wrong and wants to share it with you.

Where’s my parrot?

Toungue-wagging has ceased to impress the baby. Oh, it’ll get a smile, but no laugher.

However, a pirate impression is a sure hit. You have to close one eye and go “AAARGH, Avast ye matey, ye’ll be walking the plank, ye landlubber.” A terrible Irish accent also yeilds gales and gales of laughter.

The next three episodes of Buffy are when the show really got it together. Look forward to a discussion of “Never Kill a Boy on the First Date,” (or, Yes, Buffy that dress makes you look fat) “The Pack,” (or, yes, cannibalism CAN be funny) and finally, where we find out the truth about “Angel” (or, vampires should not carry guns because it looks really stupid, especially when said vampires are wearing Catholic school girl outfits and cannot speak through their vampire face make-up).

I know you are excited now. Stay tuned.

tongues are funny

to a baby. My baby laughs when I stick my tongue out and shake my head from side to side while making a silly noise. Lately, I think he has begun trying to imitate me, or else demanding that I perform for him. He’s been sticking his tongue out and grunting while he looks at my mouth, as though to say “come on lady, do the funny face!”

Most likely it’s just my imagination, and not actual communication. However, more and more I find myself thinking of the scene in Peter Jackson’s King Kong when he makes Naomi Watts fall down over and over because he thinks it’s funny.

It makes me happy that the baby is smaller than me.

In other news, stay tuned for the first buffy post later tonight or tomorrow morning. Welcome to Hellmouth!

kicking in his bouncer

And now, a cute baby post.

Bug has learned how to make his bouncer bounce by kicking the bottom rail. He sits there with a look of great concentration on his face, his little legs going whack whack whack whack whack whack whack. The first time he did it, I thought he was getting fussy, but when I went over to get him it was clear that he was just intent on kicking and bouncing. Too cute.

Bug is 2 and a half months old.